Desire
by EasyButton
Summary: “Great,” said George. “Now I’m going crazy. And Ron’s right; I do look like hell.” “Oh, that’s nice.” Said the 'reflection'. “I go through all that trouble to come back from the dead, and the first thing you do is insult me?” Dark,not slash.T for a reason


**Hey, this isn't really my kind of story, but a friend begged me to write a story featuring a self-destructive!George and an unsure!Harry. Well, as soon as she asked, this popped into my head and demanded to be written, so who was I to say no? There's a twist at the end so if you can spot it-and you probably can, honestly, it's not that subtle-then kudos to you. Also, if you read my other, lighter twin-centric story, And We Are All Together, a new chapter should be up in a couple of days. Enjoy!**

**~EasyButton**

George groaned as he lifted a chunk of stone away from the middle of a hallway. Why was he here again? He honestly didn't know. In fact, George was positive that he would rather be anywhere else.

But when Ron barged into the store last week, and demanded that George help with the Hogwarts cleanup in time for the school to reopen in September, George found that he couldn't say no.

Not may people _could _say no to his little brother lately. A month and a half ago, George would have found it funny. Not now, though. The war had changed everyone, he mused, and not in ways you would expect.

But Ron had shown up, and had later brought Percy as backup, and all but dragged him to this infernal castle to enlist his help.

"Come on," Ron had demanded. "You look terrible, you haven't been eating well, and I don't think you've been out of your flat in the last three weeks! You're destroying yourself, mate! This might help, you know? Give you a bit of…purpose?"

"You quoting Mum there, Ron?" George had sneered. "Or are you just turning into her?" Was he drunk at the time? George couldn't remember. He thought he was.

"Please!" begged Percy. "We just can't stand seeing you like this, George. You're not yourself anymore. Maybe if you would reopen your shop. We would all lend a hand…"

George turned on his older brother with a snarl. "Of course I'm not myself anymore! Fred is _dead,_ Percy! How do you expect me to be myself when half of myself is gone? And," He spat out, "How dare you talk to me about the shop! That was ours, Fred and mine! It's your fault he died, anyways. Now that you killed him, do you want to take his half of the business too?"

A horrible expression of pain flashed across Percy's face, and George instantly regretted his words. But a part of him felt a grim satisfaction in having his brother feel even a fraction of the suffering that George himself was experiencing.

In the end, though, the guilt won out, and after some more persuasion from Ron George found himself here, moving chunks of rock out of hallways that were no longer recognisable as once being part of a school.

"What's this?" he muttered to himself, examining a pitted wall. "I don't remember seeing a door here before. Then again" he amended, "I'm not entirely sure what part of the castle this is, so I could be wrong. Well, only one way to find out."

George pushed open the door with a grunt. He stared at the vast room inside and gave a long low whistle. "What the bloody hell happened here?" he wondered.

The room resembled a vast hall that had once been filled with treasure. Now however, it was filled with mostly charred remains. Near the doorway was a black husk that George hoped wasn't someone he once knew. He nudged it with his foot to roll it over, maybe see some sort of identification, but the body collapsed into a small pile of ashes the moment he made contact.

"Nice place." George muttered to himself. He continued walking. Most of the objects in the room were burned beyond repair, but there was one mirror near a wall that caught George's eye.

The mirror itself looked like it might have been elegant once. It was floor length, and looked as if it had been delicately engraved, but the frame was mostly melted off, and if there were ever words, they were now unreadable.

"What am I doing here?" George asked his reflection. "This is pointless. I feel like I should be _doing_ something, y'know? I just don't know what."

"You know," said the reflection cheerfully, "talking to yourself is often considered the first sign of madness."

"Great," said George. "Now I'm going crazy. And Ron's right; I do look like hell."

'Oh, that's nice." Said the reflection. "I go through all that trouble to come back from the dead, and the first thing you do is insult me?" The reflection pouted for a second, then gave a trademark Weasley Twin smile. With a jolt, George realised that the 'reflection' had two ears.

"Fred?" he whispered. "Is that you?"

"Nice to see you're finally catching on. Honestly, you'd think that you didn't _want_ to see me."

"Fred you idiot, of course I do! But…_how_?"

"It's not something that can be explained in words." Said Fred, suddenly serious. "But I saw what you were doing to yourself; to everyone else…I just couldn't leave you."

"And you were allowed to come back through a…a mirror?" Asked George, confused and delighted at the same time.

Fred laughed. "Oh Merlin, no. But you may recall that I've never exactly been one to follow rules. George…are you okay?"

George nodded, scrubbing at his eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears. It didn't work. "Oh God, Fred," He sobbed, "I thought I'd lost you forever."

"I'm not leaving you ever again." Promised Fred fiercely. "As long as you have the mirror, you have me. I…I solemnly swear it."

* * *

Harry sighed as he opened the door to the shop. The place was no longer recognisable. It was dark and filled with cobwebs. Many of the products lining the shelves gave off odd smells, obviously long expired. If Harry didn't know better, he'd say no one had stepped foot inside the building in months.

Honestly, he told himself, he would rather be almost anywhere else. If what Ron suspected was true, facing down Riddle was nothing compared to what he had to do now.

But the Weasleys had asked him for his help, seeing as he was the only one alive with enough experience in such matters. And he couldn't say no to the Weaslys. Not after all they'd done, and lost, on his account.

"Hello?" Harry called into the darkness. "George, are you there?"

He wasn't expecting an answer, not really, so Harry jumped a little when George walked out of the back room, a huge smile on his face.

"Harry!" he grinned "I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Um, sorry," Harry muttered. "I've been kind of busy, but…"

"Everyone's busy nowadays." Said George mournfully. "No one comes to visit us anymore."

Harry tried not to wince at the use of the plural. "Well, maybe more people would come if you reopened your shop." He suggested. "I mean, the war's over, you have enough money, there's nothing _stopping_ you."

George looked uncomfortable. "Well, you're not the only one who's been busy." He muttered. His eyes flickered towards the open door leading into the back room.

Harry only got a glance at the large mirror sitting in the middle of the room before George kicked the door shut. But, thought Harry with a sinking stomach, a glance was enough. Ron had been right.A

"Let's never mind about all that, though." George said cheerfully, though his voice was unnaturally loud and his smile seemed false. "What have you been up to lately, Harry?"

"Oh, not much, not much. Auror training and all that. Pretty boring, actually, after fighting Riddle for so long."

"Sounds like it." said George, trying to sound sympathetic and failing. His eyes once again darted to the back room, and Harry suddenly noticed how thin George was getting."

"Um, George?" asked Harry hesitantly "When did you last eat?"

George shrugged. "Um… this morning, yesterday morning, I can't remember. Why Harry? Everything's all right now, isn't it?" This last part was said in the manner of someone knowing he was about to receive terrible news.

"No, everything's fine George." Harry lied, hating his cowardice more and more every passing second. "I, uh, have to go now. Ginny's expecting me for dinner."

"Dinner. Right." George smirked, though the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Harry?" He asked quietly a moment later. "Are you sure you didn't come in here to tell me something?"

Harry paused at the door, turning to face the first Weasley brother he'd ever talked too, before even Ron. He opened his mouth…and closed it again. He couldn't do it. He'd just have to tell Mrs. Weasley that he was sorry. "No George." He said firmly. "Nothing at all."

With that, Harry turned and walked out, leaving George alone in the empty shop with the Mirror of Erised.

"_Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what is shown is real or even possible."_

-Albus Dumbledore

* * *

** Hey, EasyButton here with a friendly reminder: Review! Anyways, hope you enjoyed the story. In case you didn't catch on, erised is the mirror image of desire. Yeah, it took me a while to get that. Also, the body in the Room of Requirement was Crabbe. He died when he set the place on fire in the final battle. I don't usually write things this dark, so I would love some feedback knowing how I did.**

**~EasyButton**

* * *

* * *


End file.
